You had struggled to find time to visit Waylon lately, but when you finally made it down into the sewers, cringing at the murky water, you can't find him. Usually, he was right there, having caught your scent almost immediately. You venture a little further through the catacombs, calling out for him.

Waylon could hear you, but he delayed his appearance. He'd been having crippling doubts; how could someone like you really love him? You seemed much happier up on the surface, where he couldn't be.